


You Thought We Weren't Friends

by RaspberrySwish



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: But also an AU?, F/F, Fake Hating AU, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship, Where they pretend to hate each other? yeah, an au that happens after it ends, as in the opposite of Fake Dating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25102669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberrySwish/pseuds/RaspberrySwish
Summary: When your triplet, as well as everyone you know, hates your girlfriend with a raging passion (and rightfully so), the reasonable thing to do is to tell them that you're dating, right?Well, Isadora was in far too deep to do that now.Might as well hatch a convoluted plan to get them all to forgive her gf, while also pretending to hate anything and everything about her. Now only if her brother's best friend wasn't so suspicious, and her brother so stubborn, it might be easy. Might.
Relationships: Duncan Quagmire & Carmelita Spats, Duncan Quagmire & Isadora Quagmire & Quigley Quagmire, Isadora Quagmire/Carmelita Spats, Klaus Baudelaire & Isadora Quagmire, and every other variation within the group
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

“How far is this bakery again?” Violet asked her.

“Not far,” Isadora replied. “A friend showed it to me a few weeks ago, it’s a small little place mostly hidden from the street.”

“What friend?” Klaus asked.

“How come I’ve never heard of it?” Quigley said at the same time.

Isadora chose to answer the second question.

“It’s not like you have the whole city memorized block by block,” she told her brother. 

“And why don’t I?” he replied.

“Because we’ve been here four months and Duncan still can’t find his way home from his job at the paper, that’s why.”

Violet snorted, covering up a laugh. 

What Isadora said was true after all, Duncan had been having immense trouble finding his way back to the mansion they shared, purchased with the combined amount of their two fortunes, or what was left of them after the bank burned down. Yeah, don’t ask about that one. It’s a whole different story, one involving an incompetent banker, a cigar, and a loose piece of paper sticking out of a bowler hat.

Luckily for the children, or more accurately by now, the teenagers and young adults, both the Baudelaire parents as well as the Quagmires had insurance, not to mention other investments, such as a large stock in a company that grew all types of potatoes.

“I think I see it over there!” Beatrice called out, pointing and jumping in the way only an eight year old can.

The rest of the group paused in their teasing of the youngest Quagmire and looked where she was gesturing.

Isadora smiled when she saw the exterior of the Eiffel Oven, painted a cute light pink, with a black Eiffel Tower incorporated into their sign, really stressing the  _ French  _ part of French Bakery.

“Who showed you this place again?” Klaus asked, falling behind as the others raced across the street.

“You’re going to get last pick of sweets!” Isadora called back.

The interior of the bakery wasn’t much different from the outside. The walls were painted the same pink, only now there were little while and black dots on the walls. It was adorable. Cute. Carmelita.

Isadora’s shoulders tensed when she spotted the girl by the counter, paying for a few pastries. 

This was a mistake, they shouldn’t be here, she should-

“Carmelita?” Violet asked aloud.

_ Too late. _

Carmelita froze at the sound of her name, turning slowly around to face them.

“I-” she began quietly.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Duncan blurted out, his face flushed.

Isadora took a look at the others out of the corner of her eye, all of them wearing similar expressions to Duncan, with the exception of Beatrice, of course.

She opened her mouth to say something in defense of the girl, but what came out instead was the polar opposite.

“Why don’t you just go and leave? Hang out somewhere that we aren't.”

Carmelita met her eyes, and her face flashed with hurt for the smallest of moments.

“Fine then, I will.” she said, storming out of the bakery.

Isadora felt in her gut that she had royally fucked up.

The group was quiet for thirty seconds after that, barely moving.

“I just remembered!” Isadora said. “I forgot my purse in the park. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She didn’t wait for an answer before running out, the bell jingling behind her.

“Carmelita!” she called. “Carmelita, please!”

The redhead kept walking.

“Carm, stop!” 

Isadora placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, forcing her to turn around.

“What!?” Carm snapped at her. “What do you want with me!”

“I wanted to say I'm sorry,” Isadora told her. 

“I'm sorry for what I said in there.”

Carmelita looked up, meeting her eyes.

“I thought we had gotten past all that. Talked. Made up.”

Isadora nodded.

“I know, I know, we did! But they… they don't understand, they're not ready yet. They still see you as-”

“As the bitch that tortured them, yes, I'm well aware.”

“As the girl you were.” Isadora corrected. “But you aren't that girl anymore. You've changed. I know that. But they don't yet. Think about when I first saw you again! I was angry, really angry, but you taught me people can change. They can learn that too.”

Carm let out a small giggle. “You threw a shopping basket at me!”

“What did you expect, running into your childhood bully at the supermarket!”

“At least it wasn't a shopping cart.”

The girls smiled, letting out a deep breath.

“They're going to forgive you eventually,” Isadora said. “Learn how to see you the way I do.” 

Carmelita smirked.

“Hopefully not  _ exactly _ the way you do.”

Isadora moved her arm, taking Carm's hand in her own.

“No, not exactly.”

They stood like that for a moment, just existing, before Carmelita started talking again.

“You should probably get back to your friends now.”

Isadora groaned.

“I told them that I forgot my purse.”

Carm laughed.

“You don't even own a purse!”

“I know, I just, I had to apologize.”

“Here,” Carmelita said, pulling her bag off her shoulder. “Take mine.”

“It's pink! They'll know something's up!”

“Say you found it. Or you mugged me or something.”

Isadora laughed.

“Oh yes, I was so enraged at seeing you I immediately ran after you to beat you up in an alley and steal all your belongings.”

Carm smiled.

“Who said anything about beating me up? You couldn't take me anyways.”

“Don't be so certain. You have no idea what I'm capable of.”

“No idea, hm?” Carm gave her a push on the shoulder. “Go run back to your friends and tell them that.”

Isadora turned around, smiling and taking a few steps before calling back, “Dinner still on for tomorrow night?”

Carmelita waved her goodbye, nodding.

“Just don't tell me to leave again!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isadora makes her way back to the Bakery, and has to cover up the sudden appearance of Carmelita's hot pink purse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duuuuude  
> Okay so I wrote this scene at midnight two days ago and haven't gotten to posting it until now (In the middle of a car ride while i happen to have reading related carsickness 😄) SO it's very short and my editing might be shitty because 🤢 (Do not ask me why i decided to post this now, i do not have a good reason) 
> 
> Okay. So. For my Jewish readers, I did some light research on my usage of honorifics for the dead (i think that's what they're called?) I'm not wholly confident of my usage so _please_ correct me if i used it wrong in the sentence, or it doesn't make sense informally. Idk i just really wanted to do the thing where you say the obligatory nice thing about a dead person before you roast the shit out of them.
> 
> ONE LAST THING I PROMISE ~~this note is really long im so sorry~~ tell me your thoughts on the Quiglet this chapter! As I was writing the end of this scene my interaction with Quigley and Violet was giving off such vibes so I had the other Quags make a private comment. As it stands, I am looking for input on whether they are currently together in this AU or in a sort of "we kissed that one time but it was years ago and i dont know if you still like me and i dont want to make assumptions or have you feel like we're obligated to be in a relationship" thing that they will have to get snapped out of by a completely done Sunny idk
> 
> OH FUCK THERE WAS SOMETHING ELSE  
> so. I don't have a solid idea on what VFD looks like in this au (its still a cult) but is really different that it is in canon and so their relationship with the members is too? Anyways Jacques is still dead and still brainwashed, but his whole "vfd is good bc they do good things sometimes" and looking past the bad also applies to law enforcement as a whole so uh. The kids play the "telling Quigley not to repeat the stupid shit Jacques told him" game a lot
> 
> Okay car ride ending i hipe you like reading this im gonna puke my guts out in the bushes (false alarm dont worry im good now)
> 
> Sorry for the rambling im in a weird mood i hope you like it  
> Oh also im posting from my phone so sorry if that messes things up welp

By the time Isadora made her way back to the bakery, the rest of her friends had already gotten their food.

They were sitting at a table, or rather two tables pushed together, by the window, The Baudelaires, and her brothers, and Beatrice.

She waved to them through the window, the bell ringing as she reentered the shop, Carmelita’s pink purse looped over her shoulder.

“Did you find your purse?” Violet asked as she sat down.

“Yeah, I did, actually,” she smiled, stealing Beatrice’s fruit tart. (Children weren’t allowed to eat things like that, right?)

She winced as Beatrice kicked her under the table, Sunny pushing her jelly donut between the two so they could share.

“Stealing candy from a baby,” she criticized. “Despicable.”

Beatrice took a huge bite of the donut, raspberry jelly smearing all over her face.

“I’m not a baby, I’m eight years old.”

Sunny smiled.

“You have a little something on your face there.”

“Fuck you.”

They laughed.

Isadora relaxed, Carmelita's purse forgotten among the conversation as they finished off their sweets, Violet going up to the register to ask for some napkins for Beatrice’s face.

“So Isadora,” Klaus said. “You mentioned you left your purse in the park?”

She tensed.

“Uh… Yeah, I did! Forgot it on the bench when I stopped to feed the crows. Silly me, right?”

He forced a smile.

“Hilarious. Do you mind if I take a look at it?”

She shrugged, trying to deflect with another joke.

“Depends. Are you a criminal, a cop, or just a weirdo?”

HIs eyes narrowed.

“None of the above.”

She lowered her voice, pretending to conspire with him over the table.

“Are you sure? Because if you are a cop you’re legally required to tell me.”

Duncan gave her a shove from across the table, where he was sitting next to Klaus.

“Oh Isa, stop, You know he isn’t a cop. Plus I’m pretty sure they made up that whole ‘telling people’ thing to trick people into confessing things.”

Now it was Quigley’s turn to laugh.

“Nice one Duncan, but cops don’t trick people.”

The entire table turned to stare at Quigley all at once.

“Sorry,  _ what did you just say?” _

__ Quigley gave them all a strange look.

“Jacques said that the police are noble, that they help people.”

“Oh well, if  _ Jacques said  _ that,” 

“Listening to Jacques Snicket is definitely a smart move.”

“You should totally believe everything he tells you, not like he was brainwashed by a cult or anything.”

Those statements and more floated about their table as Quigley brought up Jacques for the third time that week, and the others had to remind him of VFD’s cult status  _ for the third time that week. _

__ By the time Violet got back to the table with Beatrice’s napkins, it had dissolved into a full on debate, or rather, the closest thing you could get to a civilized debate with four teens and a child screaming as loud as they dared in the quiet bakery.

Violet looked over the table, her eyes widening a bit as she handed Beatrice her napkins.

“So, what are we yelling at Quigley for this time?”

Klaus sighed. 

“Jacques told Quigley that police officers are noble and always have the best intentions of the people in mind.”

Violet turned to Quigley, placing her hands on his shoulders so their eyes would meet.

“Quigley…” she said slowly. “Do you remember what we say about things like this?”

He sighed. 

“That VFD is a cult and-”

“Yes and no. I’m talking about the other one.”

“The other one?”

She gave him a look.

_ “Jacques Snicket, May his memory be a blessing, is…” _

Quigley didn’t say anything.

“I’m waiting.”

He sighed and began to whisper.

“Jacques Snicket, May his memory be for a-”

“ _ Louder.” _

__ “JACQUES SNICKET, MAY HIS MEMORY BE FOR A BLESSING, IS ALWAYS FULL OF SHIT!”

She grinned, letting go of the boy as the entire shop turned to stare at them.

“There we go!” she cheered, clapping him on the back.

“Now, I’ve already paid, so we should probably leave before the owner kicks us out.” she told them all, the group rising behind her. “Also nice new purse, Isadora, very bold, I like it.”

Duncan gave her a look.

“I thought you said that-”

Isadora shrugged, cutting him off.

“I guess she never noticed. Probably too busy making faces at our brother.”

He laughed.

“More like the other way around.”


End file.
